âCan someone please tell me whatâs going on?â
They both turned their attention to her, Evelyn grinning, Max glowering.
âMy grandmother says you are the Searching One. The one whom her spirit guides foretold.â
The old shaman nodded and laughed. It was more of a cackle, really, like one of Macbethâs witches stirring toil and trouble.
And Serena still had no idea what they were talking about.
Â
M AX SHOVED his shaking hands in his pockets and stepped back to lean against the counter. He wasnât sure his knees would have held much longer. The Searching One. Serena? No way.
But his grandmother was not usually wrong.
Still, there had to be some mistake.
âWhat does that mean?â Serena switched her inquiring gaze from him to his grandmother, and back to him. âIs it because I search for the truth?â
âHa.â Max bit off a mocking laugh. âYou wouldnât know the truth ifââ
âMax!â his grandmother admonished him.
âIâm sorry, Aanaga, but you have to be mistaken. And you,â he said as he glared at Serena, âneed to leave.â
âNo,â his grandmother protested. âShe is my guest.â
âHeâs right, Evelyn.â Yanking her purse off the back of the chair, Serena slung it over her shoulder and bustled toward the front door. When she got to the entryway, she spun back and held her hand out to his grandmother. âThank you for inviting me.â
But his grandmother shook her head. âYou have no way home except for Max. And I need him to fix mychimney before he leaves. You will stay for lunch. Max, too.â
Max bit back a groan and clenched his fists. Now he had to give the meddling busybody a ride? True, he hadnât seen Serenaâs rental out front. How had she gotten here? Whoever drove her was going to hear about it. Probably Chris. The kid was barely legal to drink and heâd tried to give Max advice on women before.
âI donât want to be any trouble.â Serena hesitated by the door, staring at him.
Max scoffed. âLady, youâve been trouble since the moment I laid eyes on you.â
Her lips tightened and she raised her arrogant little chin.
âBe ready to leave in half an hour.â He wouldnât disrespect his grandmother by refusing her guest a ride home. But that didnât mean he had to join them for lunch. âIn the meantime, Iâll be on the roof.â He strode to the front door and then turned back. âCome on, Mick. You can keep me company.â
Mickey raised his head and thumped his tail, but he stayed by Serenaâs side.
âMick. Letâs go.â
The malamute whined, but he still didnât move.
âFine. Stay there.â He slammed out the front door.
Â
M AX SANK ankle deep into the snow on the roof. That woman had some nerve being here.
Of course, heâd been the one to seek her out this morning. What a mistake that had been. What had hebeen thinking, pushing his way into her hotel room with a bed not three feet away? Not that theyâd needed a bed. Damn, all he had to do was get near her and he wanted her.
Nah, that wasnât true. He wanted her even when he wasnât near her. Even when he was frustrated with her he wanted to strip her and take her.
The chimney pipe was fine, but once the snow melted heâd probably need to replace some shingles on the roof. He made a note to bring his hammer, some nails and a few new shingles next time he came. His stomach growled and his nose was frozen. Still, he wouldnât give that woman theâdamn. Realizing his tactical error, he climbed down the ladder, brushed the ice off his parka and hurried into the cabin. He shouldnât have left her alone with his grandmother. No telling what she would reveal to Serena.
At the entry to the kitchen, he slowed, hearing his grandmother tell an old Iñupiat storyâthe one she used to tell
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